Jane and I went to our favourite bar/cafe/restaurant this morning and had a delicious brunch. After a long and slow wander through parks and along canals we end up back to the hostel. My camera, some film, the photos of my trip so far and some money are packed in my day bag, ready for a late afternoon picnic. We plan to slowly make our way back to The Grasshopper for a late dinner.
I see Jane having trouble with the locker. I put my day bag on my bed and go to help her cram her luggage into the locker. While I'm pushing on the door, trying to get it closed so Jane can get the lock on it, I see someone walk past carrying a bag that looks very similar to mine.
Lock in place, I return to my bed to find my day bag is missing.
I race down the stairs in hopes of finding the culprit either still in the hostel or out on the streets, but my search is in vain. My bag, all my photos, my camera. Gone.
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| tear by mebilia on deviantART |
Jane didn't see the person walk past. When she finally catches up to me, I am pacing in a panic outside the hostel. Trying to explain what has happened is more than I can bear. She hugs me comfortingly while I mourn the loss of a journey's worth of memories on her shoulder.
• ¤ •
“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.”
~Mitch Albom
